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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24656461">Never Yield</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lhugy_for_short/pseuds/Lhugy_for_short'>Lhugy_for_short</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Final Fantasy XV</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Character Death In Dream, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Sex, Frottage, M/M, Nightmares, Oral Sex</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 04:00:29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,266</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24656461</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lhugy_for_short/pseuds/Lhugy_for_short</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>In his dreams, Ignis' fears are often so powerful, so lifelike, that he wakes shaking and in tears, unsure if the sleeping form beside him is the reality he won.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Noctis Lucis Caelum/Ignis Scientia</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>96</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>The Ignoct Indoor Gift Exchange</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Never Yield</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/whatwasdead/gifts">whatwasdead</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is a contribution to the Ignoct Indoor Gift Exchange event! I was a pinch hitter for clawsandbeak, who requested, among other awesome ideas, some Verse 2 hurt/comfort. I hope this is along the lines of what you were looking for! </p><p>A big thank you to the event mod for letting me participate, and to Shoob, my dearest KP, who convinced me to add the smut.</p><p>(I'm rating this explicit to be safe, but it isn't really all that filthy...lol)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>This place is familiar to him. Dark, lifeless, and yet not entirely void. Something is watching him. A terrible force that haunts him from above, bears down on him with the weight of centuries of judgement. Ignis can feel them all around him, their gazes licking like icy flames over his skin, and challenging him to cower to his knees. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But now, as then, he holds his ground. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you seek, Ring Bearer?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ha! He seeks power, of course. Why else would he have come to us?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Voices boom from everywhere and nowhere. Thunder in the darkness like the anger of giants. But Ignis refuses to show them his fear. Too much is at stake to waver now. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kings of Old!” he cries out, in the tapestry of memories and dreams. “I stand before you because Noctis is dying! Please, help me save him!” A vision of his prince haunts him, laying broken and bloodied amidst the ruin of Altissia. So long ago…. No, that can’t be right, can it? He was just at his side. He must have been. Ignis once more raises his voice against the darkness, against the doubt. “I ask only for the strength to protect my king!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Deafening silence follows, and then: “He takes great risk upon himself in putting on the Ring, as he is not of Royal Blood.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t bloody care!” he shouts, “I’ll die for him if that is your wish, but </span>
  <em>
    <span>please</span>
  </em>
  <span>, you must help me!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Above him, the cacophony of voices rumble as storm clouds clashing in the night sky. Loud, violent, and Ignis is forced to clutch his chest as pain shoots through him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He knows what comes next, but he knows not how to stop it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“LIES,” says one of the ancient ghosts. “Is it not power you seek, after all?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He is WEAK.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You are a FOOL to believe your love is enough to save him!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s fear, of course, deeply rooted anxiety made manifest, taking on the form of monsters from his past. Though he once stood before these very terrors and endured their very real judgement, here, in his darkest dreams, he is powerless against them. Grief and despair flood through him. This is what it feels like to lose everything. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“LOOK,” comes the passing of his final sentence. “Look upon your failure, upon your dying prince, and know that he dies by your hand.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No…. No!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Try as he might, Ignis cannot tear his gaze away from the vision that appears now before him. Though he shuts his eyes, squeezes them tight, Noctis is still there. Still staring back at him, cold and unblinking in the rain, the life drained from his pale face. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Dead</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ignis’ screams echo in the void. “STOP! No more!” Tears stream down his face even in his sleep. Yet the Kings have already chosen this as his punishment. Not, as foretold in the prophecies, with blindness, but with the curse of </span>
  <em>
    <span>sight. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Look. Look!” they chant, commanding him, and he has no choice but to obey. “Look upon the fruits your efforts have borne! Watch him DIE!” </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ignis wakes with a shuddering gasp.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Around him, the bedroom is dark, quiet save for the soft ticking of his wristwatch on the nightstand. The voices no longer reach him here. No ghosts, and no gods. He’s home. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yet his hands, like the rest of him, are still trembling. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Just a dream</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he tries to tell himself. </span>
  <em>
    <span>It was only a dream.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>On the pillow beside him, only one king remains now, peaceful in sleep. Noctis’ dark hair falls messily, almost veil-like into his face, and his long lashes kiss his cheeks, unmoving. For a brief moment, when Ignis looks at his husband beside him, those nightmarish visions of Altissia return. Superimposed over Noct’s sleeping face is a ghastly image, one that freezes him to the core and surrounds him with the memories of roaring winds and raging seas. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Noctis, fallen. Noctis, dead. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He cannot unsee it. So lifelike that in those few heartbeats he once again slips from reality, forgetting where he is, </span>
  <em>
    <span>when </span>
  </em>
  <span>he is. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Is this…?</span>
  </em>
  <span> Green eyes sting with frightened tears. “Is this real?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ignis is shaking as he reaches out to stroke his fingers over Noctis’ familiar cheek. The skin, he sobs with relief, is warm. Whole. No thanks to the gods and the fates that once tried to take him away, to rip them apart and leave Ignis all alone in that darkness. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...Specs?” At the touch, Noctis stirs. The young king’s tone is groggy, but not without concern, and he rolls onto his side to get a better view. “Are you crying? What’s wrong?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>I….</span>
  </em>
  <span>” There’s little he can say. Already his voice is cracking with emotion and fear. His dream, those damned visions! They’d left his head spinning, and his heart threatening to break. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I thought...I’d lost you again….</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, hey.” As Noct sits up, propping himself up on his elbow for balance, he wraps his fingers around Ignis’ nearest wrist. Squeezes, gently, until Ignis can focus on him - the </span>
  <em>
    <span>real </span>
  </em>
  <span>him - in the dark. “I’m right here, Iggy. I’ve got you, okay?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The panic is slow to settle in his veins, but Ignis can feel his breath growing easier. He concentrates on each inhale, and on the way Noctis is touching him. The warmth and tenderness of those familiar fingers, moving over his wrist and up his arm, reigning him back to the present. Noctis, as always, is the light that keeps the shadows at bay. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...Thank you, I…. I had a bad dream,” he says quietly. He swipes away the wetness on his cheeks, and drops his gaze to the point where Noct’s fingers meet his own skin. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But his king is far from convinced. He smiles, still holding on, and stretches himself back down into the comfort of the sheets. “Wanna talk about it?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ignis, still trembling, shakes his head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s okay. C’mere, then.” He opens his arms in an invitation, and Ignis sinks down into them with a grateful sigh. Suddenly, he’s surrounded by Noctis, by his scent, his warmth, the steady rhythm of his pulse. He doesn’t think he will ever be able to let go. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you remember,” Noct asks once calm has settled around them again. “When we were kids, and I used to have nightmares sometimes? Do you remember what you used to say to me?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Of course he remembers, almost like it was yesterday. Ignis tucks his face into the soft cotton of Noct’s shirt. “Remind me.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You used to say, ‘The monsters in your dreams aren’t going to hurt you, because I’m going to stay awake to fight them off.’” Noct chuckles as his hands move over Ignis’ back, his shoulders, up to card through the hairs at the base of his neck. “It helped.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m glad.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know you meant it, too.That’s why it worked.” Ignis feels Noct’s breath against the top of his head, and impossibly soft lips brushing against the hair there. “So now let me do it for you, too. Let me protect you this time.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Majesty, please. It’s not so serious as-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Iggy.” That tone, so much like the one he himself uses whenever Noct is being stubborn, catches him off guard. He looks up in time to catch a kiss right to the center of his forehead. “Just relax. Trust me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I do.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Several minutes pass in soothing silence while Noctis holds him close. Those familiar hands travel over his back, his arms, up to smooth back his hair where it’s been tousled in places. It’s a powerful thing, Ignis thinks as his heartbeat gradually calms, to be comforted by a king. Not only </span>
  <em>
    <span>a</span>
  </em>
  <span> king, but </span>
  <em>
    <span>the </span>
  </em>
  <span>king, the Last King, and the man he’s loved since even before he’d begun to draw breath. How, in the face of such strength, such courage, such love, could any demons hope to linger? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eventually, Noctis’ fingers slow to a stop where they lay, still holding him around his waist. His breaths are coming in soft, barely-there puffs of air against the top of Ignis’ head, a sign that he’s most likely drifted back off to sleep. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ignis chuckles to himself. Even kings can’t be expected to stand watch </span>
  <em>
    <span>all</span>
  </em>
  <span> night, he supposes. He takes the opportunity to slip out of Noctis’ arms, just long enough to curl up against his side instead. Head pillowed on his shoulder, hands winding their way around Noct’s lean waist, he finds himself smiling to spite the darkness. “I love you, Noctis,” he whispers. “I love you always.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mm, yeah….I know….Iggy.” </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh?</span>
  </em>
  <span> Ignis shifts again to see one blue eye peering out at him under a heavy lid. “Majesty, forgive me. I thought you were sleeping.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is that why you got all sappy on me?” Noct closes his eyes again, but there’s a playful curve in the corners of his mouth. “You can tell me you love me when I’m awake, too, y’know.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And I often do, if you’d ever bother to listen to me.” Ignis’ smile widens. Beneath his hands, he feels Noct’s warmth grow more noticeable, more distracting. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The king blinks the pull of sleep from his eyes to watch him more clearly. “So you’re feeling better, then?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am, thanks to you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mmm. That’s good.” He covers a yawn behind his left hand, which he then none-too-subtly brings to rest on Ignis’ lower back. “And you’re sure you don’t need to talk about it?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A hum as Ignis melts into the touch. “It’s not worth bringing back to the surface. Suffice to say that the past is in the past, and I have no regrets.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah?” It’s about as vague an answer as Ignis can give, but of course Noctis knows him better than anyone, perhaps better even than himself. Between them, sometimes words say less than their hearts, bound together as they are in fate, ever can. And as the king turns to pepper kisses to Ignis’ face - to the scars on his forehead, his nose, his lips - Ignis knows he somehow understands anyway. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your Majesty,” he breathes quietly against Noctis’ cheek. “Need I remind you, you have several meetings scheduled for the morning.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I remember. Your point?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah. Nothing at all, love.” He smiles into the next kiss, more purposeful this time as Noctis seeks to do more than just comfort him. The hand on his back pulls his waist in closer, and he feels his king shift, adjust his weight to slide one knee up between Ignis’ thighs under the sheets. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Moments like these, even after all these years, still managed to take Ignis’ breath away every time. To feel Noct’s arms around him, his weight above him, his mouth, hot and possessive, move over his skin, it reminds him that he’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>alive</span>
  </em>
  <span>. It reminds him how far they’ve come, and how powerful their love truly is.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Strong enough to stand against the Kings of Yore. Strong enough to defeat the prophecies of gods.Strong, and uncompromising. For even in the shadows of doubt, even in his most frightening nightmares, the love between them is real. And it will </span>
  <em>
    <span>never</span>
  </em>
  <span> yield to the Dark. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Noctis.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” The name falls from his lips like the deepest prayer, encouraging his king, his husband, to answer. Not with his mouth, occupied as it is working Ignis quickly to full hardness, but with his own body. With his hands, specifically, which seek out the warmth beneath Ignis’ sleep shirt, igniting him all over with a passion only he can stoke. Chasing out the last of his shaken nerves with something real, solid, and eager on which to focus. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then there are his eyes. Even in the dark, Ignis can see them watching him, hungry beneath heavy lids. He can’t help but reach out to adore them. To stroke Noct’s cheek, to brush the hair from his face and shudder as a delicious hum ripples through him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sudden desire to kiss Noctis has him guiding the king up with his fingers wrapped tenderly around his chin. Noct moves for him easily, slotting his frame into place between his thighs even as their lips meet in the electrified silence of the bedroom. Tongues brush together, Ignis tastes himself there and exhales in a sigh. That, too, Noct devours greedily. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Specs,” he groans, his hips rocking forward to meet the need there. Even beneath his pajamas, his own hardness is impossible to ignore. “Tell me if it’s too much?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I want more. Please, Noctis, </span>
  <em>
    <span>I need….</span>
  </em>
  <span>” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He doesn’t need to finish. Noct understands, as he always does, and once again swallows up Ignis’ breath in a kiss. His pants come down as Ignis’ shirt rides up, hot flesh slides against hot flesh. Between their bodies, Noct’s hand finds them both and tightens, drawing groans of pleasure from them both. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The perfect contact leaves Ignis light headed. There’s no need to think, to speak when Noct’s lips are so soft, his body so firm, and the weight of his rocking hips so grounding. Nothing compares ot this, nothing can even come close, and his fingers say as much as they curl and flex across his husband’s back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>On a night like this, when the shadows of his past seem darkest, Ignis can think of nowhere he’d rather be than right here, safe and comfortable (and maybe just a little bit spoiled) in the arms of his beloved king. With Noctis, to whom he’s entrusted his heart, his soul, his body, and, now, his dreams as well.  </span>
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